


In the Cards

by Argyle



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-22
Updated: 2006-04-22
Packaged: 2019-02-11 20:45:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12943533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argyle/pseuds/Argyle





	In the Cards

Adam thought it was probably the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

The angle of the searchlights, the stretched look of panic on the policemen’s faces and the rubble beneath their feet, the curl of Max Beetleknee’s cape as he slipped from the bank vault, masked villain in tow: everything about the card was perfect. He had been looking for it for months, eagerly opening every pack he laid his hands on, and in the process acquiring five Scarlet Warblers, six Barracuda Bills, nine Pierre Banderscatches, and a whopping fifteen Bartleby Bowies.

Pepper was looking for it, too.

“Fancy,” she said, a little nervously, and Adam saw a glint of something that wasn’t quite wonderment in her eyes. Perhaps part of her hadn’t believed that Max Beetleknee actually existed. Her hand shook as she gave it back to him.

Adam shrugged. “Nah,” he said. “You keep it.”

“But you’ve been _madly_ keen to find one. Remember when you organized that raid on Greasy’s hideout after Mike Finch’s sister told Wensley she heard that her cousin’s neighbor’s gardener’s mum saw Greasy with it?”

“Yeah. That was _great_.”

 

And it _had_ been great.

The Them scoured every available attic within a half-kilometer radius for potential superhero gear, which amounted to three pairs of velvet trousers, some old gloves and swimming goggles, a souvenir blue beret from Paris, and a splintered croquet mallet. Of course, there was also the pair of go-go boots that had belonged to Pepper’s mother before her commune days, but no one dared comment on the fact that they bore a striking resemblance to those worn by the Scarlet Warbler. Pepper claimed Magnus the Mage before the first dusty portmanteau had been pried open; Brian took Bill and, following a lengthy struggle, Wensleydale agreed to adopt Pierre. After all, the beret was his. Adam became Max.

And so, after donning their costumes one clear July morning, the four intrepid heroes set out to claim that which was hypothetically (if not rightfully) theirs.

They walked side-by-side, their fists clenched in resolve, and made their way up hill and down alleyway, on and ever on until a certain villain’s ramshackle hideaway was in their sight. Even then, they knew it would not be an easy endeavor. They understood that one or another of them might be forced to make the ultimate sacrifice. There were no alternatives.

“Go!” cried Adam, and they went.

Pepper let slip a left-hook here and a suggestive spell there; Brian set the ground atremble with the sheer force of his will and the might of his titanium-soled boots. Wensley bid that his rivals fall into a trance. Adam smiled upon his comrades, and it was good.

Afterwards, they scoured high and low. They overturned log and plank and stone. If there were enemy survivors, they did not remain on the scene long enough for the Ultimate Fighting Squad to account for them.

The coveted card was nowhere to be found.

Indeed, it seemed that Greasy had nothing but trading cards of exotic aquatic life, and they weren’t even real trading cards but rather photographs clipped from magazines and the mottled board of cereal boxes.

The Them felt nothing if not the feeling that fills one’s heart after a job well done.

 

“You’re _sure_?” asked Pepper.

“Yeah,” said Adam. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno. Just seems a bit, well... You mightn’t find another for a _hundred years_.”

Adam stared down at the card, and Max Beetleknee stared back.

He knew that a hundred years was a very long time, but he did not mind.

The stars were high in the sky before he began his search again.


End file.
